Scooby-Doo: The Great Chainsaw Mystery
by Dru-Zod88
Summary: Scooby and Company take a trip to Texas that turns awry with a suspicious "Cook" and a masked, chainsaw wielding madman.


Disclaimer: I do not own any characters involved with Scooby-Doo or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Author's Note: I wrote this story specifically to be my first story to publish on this website to show my talent, and love of both franchises. I would greatly appreciate those who read it to review it. Please enjoy this quick, fun read, and much as I enjoyed writing it.

Scooby-Doo: The Great Chainsaw Mystery

I

Shaggy lit his joint and blew the smoke out of the open window of the Mystery Machine. He offered it to the muscular blonde man on his right, Fred, in the passenger seat, who shook his head 'no' and lit one of his cigarettes. The girls, Daphne, a redhead with impeccable fashion, and Velma, a cute nerd in an everlasting orange sweater, sat on the opposite sides of a massive brown Great Dane. The girls occasionally petted the large dog, Scooby-Doo, and it gave a pleased growl in return each time. Velma was the one who spoke first.

"Shaggy, do you think it's smart to smoke reefer while driving?" She removed her black-rimmed glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "I could give you the statistics on how it inhibits your mind and body."

"Lighten up, Velma." Fred spoke up. "We're on vacation."

"It's my last one," Shaggy replied in his defense, "Besides, I want to be mellow for the wrestling match. Jerry Lawler vs. Rocky Johnson is gonna be great."

"For you," Daphne murmured stroking Scooby's leathery ears. "I don't see the appeal."

"Fair's fair," Velma said, "The boys didn't complain when you picked that fashion show last week, or the week before when I picked the science fair. I didn't even complain about Fred taking us to the gun show before that."

"Firstly," Daphne said, her fingers firing off points, "Fred and Shaggy didn't complain about the fashion show because they got to gawk at pretty girls in revealing clothing. Secondly, you didn't complain about the gun show because you were interested in the firing mechanisms of the guns. And thirdly, neither of those trips was in the middle of po-dunk, white-trash Texas, where there isn't a clean place to eat, get gas, sleep, or even use the restroom!"

Scooby growled at the lack of affection he was getting. Velma ran her fingers through his thick fur and watched Daphne, her anger spent, collapse back in her seat and cross her arms. Shaggy flicked his finished joint out the window and said "Look, Daph! Up ahead! _Gasoline and BBQ, Ten Miles Ahead!_ We can gas up the van, grab some dinner, and ask for directions for the nearest motel. Doesn't that make you feel better?"

Daphne scoffed "What would make me happy was a dinner that wasn't barbeque and a waterbed ten feet away from a hot tub. I'd kill for bottled water and a cobb salad." Scooby picked up his large, rectangular head and put it in Daphne's lap. His large eyes looked up at her sympathetically.

His soft, pitiful gaze broke Daphne's anger. She sighed, and said "I'm sorry, guys. I'm just tired."

"There's no need to apologize," Fred said, crushing his cigarette out in the van's ashtray. "We'll all feel better in the morning. Even I'm starting to feel a little jaded. Shaggy, there's the BBQ place. Let's get something to eat, gang."

II

The van stopped outside of the gas station, with its cheap neon sign out front. The gang got out of the van and Daphne immediately wrinkled her nose. Velma and the boys didn't blame her, it didn't look great. Even Scooby whined.

"Hello?" Fred called. A light clicked on inside of the station, and a middle-aged man with large teeth walked out smiling at them.

"Good evening!" The man said, his crocodile grin stunning the entire gang. "Can I help you folks out with some gas and BBQ?"

"Hell yeah!" Shaggy replied, placing a hand over his rumbling stomach. Scooby barked loudly in agreement. Fred elbowed Shaggy hard in the ribs, and Shaggy quickly said "Sorry, sir, I meant yes, please."

The only thing more off-setting than the older man's smile was his barking laugh. He turned around and waved for them to come inside the station. The entire place smelled of stale gasoline and even staler barbeque. The old man, whose nametag simply said _Cook_, went behind the cash register and asked, "Okay, folks. How much gas and how much barbeque?"

"Ten dollars' worth of gas and we all want some barbeque." Fred replied, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"I sell the barbeque by the bag," Cook said, "Individual portions a dollar apiece. I can offer your dog some bones, on the house."

Scooby growled softly.

"Better just make it five bags of barbeque, but thanks anyway." Fred said, and paid Cook. "Do you know where a good motel is around here?"

Cook handed Fred the barbeque and said "Well, let me think. Could I have one of your cigarettes, young man?" Fred obliged and after taking a drag, Cook said, "I think the closest place is the Heartbreak, but, uh…" He looked at the girls and grinned. "I'm not sure it's a place for clean young folks."

Velma and Daphne rolled their eyes.

"The Heartbreak is twenty minutes up the road, just go straight. But an hour up the road is a much nicer place. You'll turn right at a Detour sign. The sign went up when they build the road, but the damn fools never took it down. Go down that road awhile, and you'll find the Paradise Motel, and it's a much more modest. Affordable, too."

"Sounds great!" Velma said, and poked Daphne's side. "Doesn't it, Daph?"

Daphne just held her greasy paper bag of barbeque and sighed.

III

"Fred, I don't know about this barbeque." Shaggy said after the van was filled with gas and they were off down the road. "And you know how I feel about barbeque. Even Scooby hasn't touched his."

It was true. The dog's eyes were sorrowful. Fred shook his head. "Forget it. We can grab snacks at the Paradise." He lit a cigarette and looked back at the girls, who had fallen asleep without touching their food. He blew the smoke out of his nostrils and said "Shaggy?"

"Yeah, Fred?"

Fred shifted in his seat. "Did that Cook guy seem, I don't know, weird to you?"

Shaggy gave his typical giggle. "You mean aside from looking from an extra from _Count Yorga Rises from the Grave_? Nope, not a bit."

That even made Fred chuckle. "Will you open the glove compartment, Shaggy?"

"Sure, Fred. Let me just—Fred, what the Hell is this?"

Shaggy was holding a large revolver in his hands. Fred smiled and took another drag of his cigarette. "It's a snub-nosed 41. Magnum, Shaggy. I got it at the gun show. I didn't want to worry the girls, but I want you to load it, please. The bullets are in a box further back in the glove compartment. "

Shaggy was hesitant but had learned to trust Fred. "Fred, it's cool and all, but why would you get a gun, man. That's, like, not really our bag."

"I know, Shaggy. But do you remember The Woodsman we encountered last year when we were camp counselors?"

"He freaked me right the Hell out!" Shaggy said, eyes wide but focused on placing bullets in the gun's revolving chamber.

"Me too," Fred said, "and he threw an axe at me, Shaggy. A real one. I love solving mysteries on the side, always have, but I never want us to be in a situation like that again. I'd die if anything happened to you or the girls."

Scooby growled.

"You too, boy." Fred said quickly. "But anyway, that Cook just rubbed me the wrong way. If there is a Paradise Motel where he says, that's fine, and God knows it'll make Daphne happy, but I've still got a funny feeling."

As he finished his sentence, he passed The Heartbreak, which was a nicely painted, visually pleasing motel, unlike the one that Cook described. A nice older woman working the desk looked out from the inviting, clear glass double doors and waved at them. Shaggy waved back as Fred drove.

"Am I paranoid, Shaggy?" Fred asked, embarrassment creeping into his voice.

Shaggy shrugged. "Probably not, Fred. You've always kept us out of trouble. If you wanna play it this way, I'm cool with that."

"Thanks." Fred fished another cigarette out of his pack and the two men grew quiet for the rest of the trip. When they reached the Detour sign, Fred turned right and took the van down a narrow dirt road.

"Shaggy? Didn't the Cook say the Detour sign was put her while they built the new road?"

"Like, yeah, Fred."

"This road isn't new at all."

"I see that, Fred."

"What're you two talking about?" Velma asked, rubbing her eyes. Daphne was waking up too.

"Nothing," Shaggy said, "Me and Fred think we're almost here." The gun sat coldly in his lap.

IV

The road did not come to a chic, pleasant, Paradise Motel. Instead sat an ugly, rundown, two-story plantation house. Daphne and Velma lurched forward and said "Turn the van around, Fred!"

Shaggy and Fred nodded in unison. "Come on, guys, this is one mystery we're not going to bother to solve!" Fred backed the van up, and turned around for the headlights to shine on a massive man, wearing a crude mask of what Fred hoped to God was leather. He wore a butcher's apron and hefted a massive chainsaw in his hands. Scooby began to bark wildly and the girls screamed in terror.

Fred grabbed the gun out of Shaggy's lap, aimed, and fired. The bullet blew out of the windshield and the man in the mask screamed, disappearing quickly from view.

"Everybody okay?!" Fred screamed, his ears ringing from the gunshot.

"Why do you have a gun, Freddy?" Daphne wailed, her voice hysterical.

"Who cares?" Velma screamed, spit flying from her lips, "Get us out of here, Freddy!"

"Right!" Fred shouted, slamming his foot down on the accelerator and racing down the dirt road. In only a few short seconds, he was turning left at the Detour sign, and down the main road again.

V

"You kids look like you've seen a ghost!" The elderly woman at The Heartbreak said. It was true. The girls were white, Scooby had whined softly the entire way back, Shaggy had learned that marijuana and life-threatening situation did _not _mix, and Fred was still partially deaf.

"We'd like two rooms, please." Fred said, ignoring her statement.

"Absolutely," the woman replied. "Although it'll have to be the fellas in one room, and the ladies in the other. We run a respectable place around here."

VI

Fred and Shaggy changed into their bed clothes and lied down on their individual, single beds. Fred put the gun on the night stand (just in case) and Shaggy snatched one of Fred's cigarettes.

"Should we have called the cops, Fred?"

Fred lit his cigarette. "I don't know. Maybe. I just wanted to get Velma and Daphne back here pronto. They're pretty scared."

"Yeah, but Scooby's staying with them."

"That does make me feel better."

Shaggy crushed out his cigarette and turned the TV on to an old episode of _Dark Shadows_.

"Fred?"

Fred sighed. "Yeah, Shaggy?"

"Do you think that guy with the chainsaw would have followed us here?"

Fred reached across the night stand and put his hand on his revolver. "I hope not."

VII

Daphne came out of bathroom in her bedroom, her hair soaking wet. Velma was in an orange nightgown under the covers of her bed, reading a book, with Scooby-Doo sprawled across the edge of her bed at her feet. She put her book down.

"Are you okay, Daph?"

Daphne sighed and sat down on her bed. "Yeah, thanks. The shower helped. It was all just…so sudden. One minute we're taking a nap in the van, then chainsaws!"

Velma nodded. "It's not the first time we've been blind sighted by a maniac in a mask, though. Thank God for Fred getting that gun."

"Oh, I'm still mad about that gun! You'd think that after all we've been through, he'd at least told us!"

Velma rolled her eyes. "Cut him a break. He got us out of there, like always."

"Yeah," Daphne said, suddenly looking very sad. "Like always…"

Abruptly, Scooby-Doo's ears perked up and he sat up suddenly, his eyes glued to the door.

"Do you hear something, boy?" Velma asked.

"Ruh-roh…" was the dog's reply, and outside, a chainsaw roared to life.


End file.
